Yut Lung sat on the edge of his bed, the weight of the wine bottle heavy in his hand, its contents a comforting blur. The night was alive with turmoil, echoing shouts and shattering porcelain punctuating the air. His long hair cascaded untamed over his shoulders, silk nightwear draped lazily against his frame. Amidst the chaos, he sensed Blanca's presence, a reassuring anchor in the storm.

As another noise fractured the air, Yut Lung glanced over, missing the poisons he once wielded with expertise. Was his half-brother Lee Wang Lung at it again? Or was it merely anger finding an outlet? "Blanca is here," Yut murmured to himself, peering out into the half-shrouded garden beyond the open curtains. The door creaked, a fleeting light before a familiar weight pressed against his back.

You are there, pressed close to Yut Lung, trembling slightly. He can feel the fear etched into your breaths. "Lee Wang Lung must have done a number on you," Yut observed quietly, his voice barely a whisper against the tumult outside. "You were always his favored prey in this house, even among the fleeing servants." You were more than a mere servant; the Lee family bought people, and they had wanted you enough to bring you here.

Yut Lung and you shared a fragile comfort, a precarious sense of safety in this turbulent household. "Little cricket," he mused softly, "never bringing luck." His words hung in the air, a somber reflection on their shared plight.

Then, in the quiet that followed, you spoke, your voice a hesitant breath against his ear. "Are you alright?" you asked.

Yut Lung turned slightly, meeting your gaze over his shoulder. "I'll manage," he replied, the weight of the night heavy on his shoulders but lighter with your presence beside him.